


10 is for the freckles on your cheek, that I just can't help kiss.

by MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames)



Category: Evak - Fandom, SKAM (TV), isak and even
Genre: 5 Years Later, Advent in Scandinavia, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Baking, Blowjobs, Canon Compliant, Canon Gay Character, Christmas fic, Fluff, Food, Future Fic, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Happy endings all round promised, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rimming, Showers, Snogging, Snow, all made up, apologies for any future non comliancy issues, canon compliant up to episode 7 of season 3, graphic descriptions of male/male sexual situations, graphic descriptions of nudity, its christmas after all., nothing like this ever happened, soppy attempts at poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:37:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaSoames/pseuds/MermaidsandMermen
Summary: Five years later. A future fic. A Christmas Fic. There is smut. There is ridiculously bad poetry. There is Even. There is Isak. That's all you need to Know.





	1. The first of Advent

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely ladies of the board. You know who you are. Merry Christmas. 
> 
> PLEASE NOTE that this fic was written whilst we were still in the throws of season 3 so we were not yet fully aware of Even's mental health issues, so this story is not fully canon compliant. The story is told from Even's point of view only. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading and Merry Christmas!

It hits me even before I am fully awake, the feeling of an iron blanket moving up over my chest. Crushing me underneath it’s heat and weight like I am made out of paper. I know what comes next and I brace myself against the mattress, arching up gasping for breath before it completely enfolds me. It’s not the first time this week. I thought I was better. I thought I had it all sorted.   
The fear is the worst, it completely smothers me if I let it. I know what to do. I know to fight back when this happens. I’m just not sure that I am strong enough this time, Not on my own. The sheets are wet with sweat beneath me as I try to turn onto my side and catch my breath that is like a faint whisp of a gasp between my clenched teeth. My chest is squeezed and my heart is beating so fast that my ribs feel like they are going to break. The pain in my chest is expanding like a balloon being blown up and the panic sets in full blast.   
‘’ISAK’’ I screech between trying to catch my breath. I’m not sure it comes out. 

 

I still remember that first kiss like it was yesterday. I remember the first time I felt his skin against mine. The first time I knew he loved me. The first time he said it. It’s all imprinted on my brain like it’s been tattooed there for eternity. Five years. It’s five years that he has been mine. That I have been ridiculously happy.   
Were family now you see. He keeps telling me I’m his family. And that the two of us will be more one day. We will have kids. He tells me little stories he makes up, when we take the kids to the zoo and buy them waffles smothered in whipped cream and strawberry jam. That the kids spill hot chocolate everywhere, and I have to wash their cute little snowsuits in the sink to get the stains out. That the kids fall asleep in our bed at night after I have read them stories of trolls and monsters and fairies and witches, and how he has to carry them back to their beds when they have fallen asleep, only for us to wake up in the morning with the two of them tangled up between us. His stories mesmerize me, I can see them so clearly, I can almost feel it all being real. That’s me though. Me and my vivid imagination.   
I have tried to do my bit, to give him a home. To be what he needs. I know he craves it like air, to belong. To be home. He tells me home isn’t necessarily a place, and that I am his home. Where ever I am he will feel at home. But I know he wants it. To feel safe inside the four walls of his life.   
We still only have a small student flat, and we still struggle to pay for it on our student grants. I am graduating next year, and I am hoping that I will land a job so I can look after us better, that we don’t have to think so much about how to pay the bills. Isak still has another year and a bit to go, but he is so smart. So clever. He will go so far. It’s ridiculous how proud I am of him. He laughs at us, Me and his Dad. Calls us the Isak fan club. We keep looking at him and smiling like we are some kind of deranged parents at a school play.   
I cook a lot, there is always dinner for him in the evening. I bake him rolls filled with buttery cinnamon cream, sticky and sweet, golden brown. I make him cardamom rolls, soft and shiny that make the flat smell like heaven. Golden loaves of rye bread with a dollop of honey in the dough, dusted with oats. He still leaves the cheese out, forgets the butter and drinks milk straight from the carton. I scold him. I nag. I am a pain in the ass most of the time. But god I love him so freaking much it hurts. 

 

He is there before I lose hope, before I fall under the weight of the iron on my chest. He grabs my wrists and sits me up with a jerked movement that makes my head snap back as he tries to get his legs wrapped around me. He knows what to do, He always does. He always saves me when I think I will fall under. When I am going so deep I think I might not make it back up.   
His legs are crossed behind my back, his arms holding my face so I am forced to look at him. The fear is still there, crushing my chest, but I know how this will end now. He is here. I know the drill. 

‘’Count with me baby, come on we know how we do this OK’’  
My breath stutters in ridiculous gasps, too fast for me to speak but I try to nod.  
‘’Good boy, now listen and breathe with me, here we go.’’

I blink. My eyes are locked on his. We can do this.

‘’10 is for the freckles on your face, the ones I just can’t help kiss’’  
I breathe out.

‘’9 is for the flowers I gave you on your birthday that I almost missed’’  
I breathe in. He lets a little smile escape. We both know what we are thinking. We both remember.

‘’8 is for the days it took, for me to know I loved you, with just one look’’  
I let air escape my lungs again and he leans in and kisses my lips. Just softly. I breathe in. Out.

‘’7 Is the number of the house where we live, where I love you and kiss you and we laugh and we cry. And its fine because we know who we are. We’re us. Always’’  
I nod. It’s easy to breathe in. Out. In. His gaze never leaves mine. His poetry may suck, but hey. That's him. 

‘’6 is for our family when it will be complete. You me and the kids. A dog and a cat. ‘’  
‘’And a Volvo’’ I croak out. In. Out.  
‘’And a Volvo’’ he laughs softly. ‘’A XC90, with a tow bar for the boat, and that thing on the front that you tackle moose with. ‘’  
‘’We’re not hitting any Moose baby’’ my voice is barely there. I get the words out though. In. Out. In ‘’I’m driving. You read the maps.’’ Out. In. ‘’My rules’’  
‘’Your rules’’ He laughs. 

‘’5 is the years we have been together. And the pairs of boots you own, and the number on your hoodie that I need to wash.’’  
‘’You just made that up’’ In. Out. In.  
He kisses me again. ‘’You do have 5 pairs of boots though. I tripped over them when I got home last night. We need to buy a shoerack. ‘’

‘’4 is the groomsmen we will have at our wedding.’’ He smiles when he says it. I know the drill now.  
‘’When you have asked me. When you propose.’’ I somehow manage to wink.  
‘’You are asking me. You are older. And taller. ‘’   
‘’Bullshit’’ I reply. In. Out. I lean over and kiss him. I am exhausted. I can barely get back up as I lean against his forehead. He holds me up. He is so fucking strong. I wish I was strong like Isak, so I could carry him through all the shit that life throws at us. I wish I didn’t put him through all the bullshit I put him through. I should be the one supporting him, yet he is the one who puts me back together. Who makes me whole when I fall apart. 

‘’3 is the pillows you sleep on at night, whilst I get none.’’  
‘’You hog the duvet’’ In. Out. 

‘’2 is for us. You and me. Together. Always. Forever’’  
In. Out. In. Out.

‘’And 1 is for you. My love. My ridiculously handsome boy. Man of my dreams. Man of my life. Without you I would be nothing. ‘’  
I close my eyes and let him lie me down on the bed. I’m on my side and he curls up around me letting his face snuggle up against my neck. I’m still breathing. In. Out. But it’s steady. I’m not OK. But I am safe. It will be OK. 

‘’What happened baby? What made you upset?’’ His voice is soft. Yet strong. A little sleepy.   
I feel stupid. Ridiculous.   
‘’I didn’t think you came back yesterday. I wasn’t even awake. Just that you weren’t here and I couldn’t feel you next to me. Sorry I am being ridiculous I know.’’  
‘’I came back late pissed as a fart, I didn’t want to wake you. I would just get horny and stupid and you would get pissed off with me. I stunk of beer too.’’  
‘’Sorry’’ I say. Weak. I am so stupid.  
‘’Don’t apologize. I texted you. I should have come in and kissed you, let you know I was here. My fault baby. I know how you work. I should have realized you would get worried.’’  
‘’I hate that I do this to you.’’  
‘’I love that I am the one who gets to make it better’’ he whispers. 

I close my eyes. He holds me, ridiculously tight. My breathing steadies and aligns with his. We breathe together. We sleep. 

Outside the first flurried snowflakes land on the window pane. The electric candle holder that I brought down from the loft yesterday flickers in the dim light on it’s ledge. It makes me feel like a child again, fills my lungs with silly little memories of being small innocent and brave, relishing the weeks ahead. 

It’s 4 weeks until Christmas.


	2. The second of Advent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut alert.

Isak has to work again. On a Saturday evening. It sucks as usual but we need the money. I paid the bills earlier and it just doesn’t add up. Again. There seems to be money missing, even though Isak is working several nights every week, and I am being careful with the shopping. I need to sit down with him and talk I suppose. I hate it. Hate confrontation. It makes me worry too. Worry that this is too good to be true. That one day he will have had enough of this half student half adult half-life we are living, that he will be tired of being poor with me. That he will have had enough of his crazy boyfriend who worries and panics and is not always as sane as he would like to be. Tired of being my nurse, who makes sure I take my pills on time and don’t drink too much. We have cut the weed out as well. Suppose it makes sense. More Adult kudos for us. 

I am supposed to finish off my last project, and write an essay on early eighties film production techniques. I am not feeling the love there, I have kind of been putting it off. I know I should just knuckle down and write it but instead I go and make a dough for saffron swirls. Making bread dough always calms me down. Makes me peaceful and serene. I load up Spotify on the iPad and head straight for the Christmas playlist. I’m a big sap really. I love this shit. There is an old album of Christmas songs sung by Frank Sinatra that just fills me with memories from when I was a kid. My mum used to play it as we decorated the Christmas tree, and made gingerbread biscuits. And Toffees. I make a mental note to buy more sugar and syrup so I can make some with Isak tomorrow.  
I pour flour over the worktop and start pounding my dough, letting the flour fly freely through the air. I love the softness of dough, and the satisfying whacks when it hits the surface. Soft yet strong. Unbreakable. Yellow and rich, buttery and sweet. When it is done it has the texture of soft skin, smooth to the touch, soft under the pressure of my fingers. It makes me horny. As usual. I’m a bloke OK? It doesn’t take much to get me going. I adjust myself in my boxers and think of Mrs Halvorsen next door. She is about 80 with false teeth and a mysterious shade of purple hair. Then I get the hoover out. I award myself extra adult kudos points as I hoover the floor and tidy up the kitchen. My dick will just have to wait. 

I must have really enjoyed writing my essay as the next thing I know I am being woken up by Isak kissing me. I’m still sitting on the sofa,holding the laptop on my lap, and Isak gently lifts it of me and closes the lid.  
‘’Did you miss me?’’ He asks, grinning that ridiculous grin of his.  
‘’Nope, not at all.’’ I deadpan back.  
‘’Lovely saffron swirls’’. He is holding a half eaten bun in his hand and feeds me a bite with a mischievous grin. ‘’I put the rest of them in the freezer for tomorrow’’  
‘’Oh adult kudos for you’’ I grin. We are such nerds. I sometimes wonder how the two of us actually get through life. 

He kisses me again. He smells of onion and kebab, and oil and grease. The downer of working in a kebab shop. He tastes of saffron. And Him. I put my hand around the back of his neck and pull him back down towards me.  
‘’I love you baby’’ I whisper into his mouth.  
‘’What are you after? Being all lovey dovey with me like this?’’ His eyes are twinkling and his dimples are creasing his face with that ridiculously sexy grin.  
‘’Just get naked Isak’’ I groan and move my hands down to grab the hem of his hoodie. He is already pulling it over his head and I don’t waste time. My mouth is sucking marks into his chest, licking little lines around his nipples, my tongue flicking over the hardened buds and sucking on his skin. He is loving every touch, I can tell, making little breathy noises, and leaning into every touch. He is pulling at my t-shirt, trailing his hands over my stomach as I let my mouth taste his neck, sucking the skin gently so I won’t leave marks. It used to be funny, marking him up with hickeys, reveling in that everyone would know I did that. Everyone would know he was mine, that he let me do that to him. That he belonged to me. We are a bit more adult now. A little bit more mature.  
I take that back in my head as Isak straddles my chest and pumps his cock with his hand. He has got such a great great cock. And there is nothing mature about the whimpers coming out of my mouth as he guides his cock to my lips. I lift my head up so I can feel it against my face. Caressing the soft skin of his very erect cock with the skin on my cheek, letting my nose rub against the foreskin straining over the head. His legs are holding my arms down, and he looks at me for a moment to make sure this is OK. That I am OK. He knows I love it when he plays with me like this. When he takes control and tells me what to do. I know it’s only a game, it’s only sex and I trust him. Completely. 

‘’Open your mouth baby’’ He says. Sternly. Like he is a school teacher.  
I kiss the head of his penis, keeping my lips tightly closed.  
He groans and closes his eyes. I know what this does to him.  
I stick my tongue out and lick the slit of his cock, letting the taste sink in on my tongue. It still makes me lightheaded when we do this. When I get to taste him. When he lets go with me and allows himself to fall apart. 

‘’Please Even…’’ he whispers as I let my tongue slip out again, circling the head of his cock with my tongue, drawing wet lines on his skin. His hips are moving, making little jerks against my face.  
I know exactly what he wants me to do, but he needs to suffer a little first. I know I’m a tease but he is so easy to please, so sexy to satisfy.  
I move my mouth down to his balls, sucking gently on the skin, letting him control the movement against my face, against my lips, my tongue. He leans into me, groaning and whispering. Just little words of ‘’yes’’ and ‘’please’’ and ‘’fucking love you’’. And I say it right back. 

‘’Love you’’ I whisper. ‘’Love your cock, love tasting you’’

I look up at him and wriggle my arm tentatively. He lifts his leg and lets my arm free. I let my fingers trail down his back, touching the curve of his spine and slowly trace the fold of his skin. He arches up at me, just as I knew he would. He grabs my hand and pulls it up to his face, sucking my fingers into his mouth. His tongue swirls over my digits, making them wet and warm, letting himself drool so they are dripping with his spit. 

We both know what we want, we both know how this will go. There is no holding back now, no inhibitions, no angst. It’s just us doing what we do best. Loving each other.  
I take him into my mouth in one swift movement, flattening my tongue so I can take him deep. He yelps and arches and stops breathing as his body stiffens with surprise. I suck him in, letting him move in and out, just tiny movements until I lean back so I can do it all over again. I breathe through my nose, relax and let him take me, let him move against me and his face stiffens and he squints his eyes tightly shut and fucks my mouth like he means it. Long hard steady strokes, in and out, his hands holding on to the armrest of the sofa. I watch his face, watch his arms bulge, his muscles move with every movement, his stomach held in tight. I make my tongue move, trying to create suction and space in time with his hips. 

‘’Even!’’ he groans. 

Oh baby. I wish I could say it but my mouth is full of him, full of sensation. Full of loving him. My fingers are ready and waiting, ready to make him come like a train. Make him see stars, I know what he likes, what revs him up. What makes him crazy. My fingers find their way in between his hard cheeks, between the muscles and hair. The soft opening and the ring of muscles. He clenches and softens, letting my finger in. I know every part of his body like it’s my own, and my finger finds its way. In and out. Soft movements moving at the speed of his hips, feeling his legs against my chest. Rubbing over my chest, caressing my nipples. 

I pull out and add another finger. Two fingers opening him up. Slow and steady. Soft and wet. Moaning and whimpering. The wind howling outside the windows, flurries of snow hitting the glass. My fingers reach their destination right on time as my jaw almost spasms with ache. And Isak howls my name and I swallow his seed. Swallow and lick and suck whilst he grinds and shouts and moans and I don't let him go. I don't let him go until he is spent and soft and relaxed and i release my fingers and he pulls out and clumsily falls on top of me, his chest against my face, my breath trying to catch up with his.  
‘’Fuck baby’’ he whispers and reaches down to grab my cock. It has been enjoying the ride, there is no doubt about it. Isak is still sluggish from coming, his body all soft and pliant as he snuggles into my side, letting his leg fold over mine.  
‘’Come on babe, come for me’’ he urges as his hand enfolds my length pumping up and down the way I like it. Sharp and dry, steady and hard. And just like that I fall into the dark. I howl. I pant. I spill all over his hand. I clumsily try to kiss him but we both miss and I think i end up with my mouth on his shoulder, whining and nuzzling into him. My baby. My gorgeous boy. My hero. My Prince. He is everything in my book.  
He pulls a blanket around us, not even bothering to clean us up. And we sleep. 

It’s just past midnight. Three weeks until Christmas.


	3. The Third of Advent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirty dirty boys. Doing dirty things in this chapter.

I should have known better than try to make a gingerbread house. Isak is a fucking engineering major. He is arguing with me over angles of a fucking biscuit. And I am pretending I am right even though I am no doubt completely stupidly wrong and the gingerbread house will never ever actually hold together.  
‘’Fucking hell Even’’ Isak shouts and slams the kitchen door as he walks out. And I feel like an idiot. 

I am the kitchen god OK? Isak can barely make cheese on toast and would probably starve to death without me. He should just let me get on with it.  
I had been hoping we could do it together though. I had the Christmas music on, and the advent candle holder lit with the 3 candles in a row perfectly aligned like they should be. I feel like blowing them out and sulking.  
I wonder where we are heading. I wonder if this is the beginning of the end when we can’t even make a gingerbread house without trying to kill each other. 

Isak’s wage was not paid in to our account this month either. So we are in the shit financially. Just before Christmas. It’s not good. I am stressing about it and it doesn’t help that I had another panic attack on Thursday morning when I couldn’t find my hoodie. Isak was ridiculously late already and left me panting and gasping for breath like I was dying on the hallway floor whilst he turned our bedroom upside down over a damn hoodie. It wasn’t pretty. It was fucking exhausting. Isak didn’t even kiss me goodbye, just left the mess that was left of me sitting on the floor clutching my hoodie like it was a lifejacket on a drowning ship. He has made me an appointment to get my medicine checked again, I saw it on the fridge. I am more and more convinced that he is leaving me. He has had enough. I can tell from the stance when he walks through the door, the hesitation in his eyes when he looks at me trying to figure out if I’m ok today, or if I am falling apart. I thought I had mostly good days, but today is turning into shit.

I pick up the baking sheet of ginger house parts and hurl them into the bin. 

He comes in and switches the coffee maker on. His shoulders are stiff and pulled up against his neck like they always are when he is stressed. Before Exams. Or when I am like this. Nervous and twitchy and upset. He pours the water in the machine not caring that he is spilling half of it on the worktop. And there is coffee grounds flurrying to the floor when he slams the lid of the jar shut. I am fucked. 

I sit down on the floor by the bins and slam my head back against the cupboard door.  
‘’Isak’’ I growl distraught. ‘’Please don’t be mad at me. I hate when we fight’’  
He turns around and sighs. His face is hard and he is still scowling at me.  
‘’Your fucking house would have been condemned. You could have killed the Ginger Man. And the Ginger Lady. The ginger kids. Their freaking Dog. You would have been a murderer.’’  
I can see his eyes twitching behind his stern looking face. I let my head drop in my hands.

He comes over and sits down on the floor beside me, letting his fingers entwine with mine. We sit there holding hands in silence whilst some Eurovision one hit wonder star belts out some smarmy tune about Santa and his sleigh.  
‘’You are stressed out baby, and I am stressed out.’’ He says. ‘’ The exam next week is slaying me and I am working every night. I’m sorry. I’m an arse.’’  
‘’I’m sorry I freak out. I love you’’ I say. He reaches over and kisses my cheek.  
‘’Do you know what we need?’’ he’s got his mischievous grin back on.  
‘’More Gingerbread dough?’’ I’m trying to keep it light. And clean.  
He leans over again and whispers into my ear. ‘’We need lube. And fucking mind blowing fucking orgasms.’’

I look him straight in the eye, raising one eyebrow in fake wonder. He just grins at me. I jump of the floor and rip my shirt off.  
‘’First one in the shower gets a rim job’’ I tease and run off, Isak hot on my heels. His joggers drop in the hallway, my jeans are still on as I switch the water on in the shower making Isak call me a cheat. 

I just laugh. Wet jeans are a bitch though and he ends up having to help me get them off, which makes me just want to kiss him. He is on his knees in the shower getting my socks off. My wet socks. He looks at me and I melt again. I wonder to myself how I ever doubt him. How I ever doubt that he loves me. Because he so clearly does. My darling boy. Gorgeous and fragile like a porcelain doll. Yet he is so strong . He keeps me sane. Keeps me whole. My heart just melts standing there under the spray of water, with Isak on his knees, kissing a line of little kisses up my leg, only stopping to catch my eye and wink. Little tease. He gives as good as he gets. I should know this by now. He kisses and nuzzles and licks trails on the inside of my legs. Then he just does it. Sucks a testicle into his mouth and gently pulls, making me howl with the sensation of it all. I always love a bit of ball play. Isak could take it or leave it, I know, but there is something erotic about it all, and my dick is definitely up for playing. I close my eyes and let him look after me, let him play with my balls as he sucks my cock into his mouth. His hand is moving over my cheeks, squeezing and caressing whilst his mouth is doing seriously dirty things to my foreskin.  
‘’Your mouth is fucking filthy baby’’ I grunt out.  
‘’You fucking love it’’ He replies, mouth full of me.  
‘’Fucking dirty boy talking with your mouth full’’ I tease, and he responds by slapping my arse so hard I am sure there will be an Isak shaped handprint still there in the morning.  
‘’Turn around then and I will show you what this dirty boy can do ’’ he smirks at me and like a good boy I do as I am told. 

His mouth may be dirty but his tongue is the devil, I can tell you.  
‘’Jesus Christ’’ I call out as he pushes his tongue straight in, pushing past my rim in one foul sweep.  
I close my eyes and let him wreck me. It doesn’t take much for Isak to have me quivering. My legs are shaking like jelly from trying to hold myself up as his mouth is doing wicked wicked things behind my back. My cock is dripping precome like it’s going out of fashion, throbbing and pulsing in my hand as I make a half hearted attempt to give myself a few strokes. Isak knows me too well though, his hand comes up behind me and switches the shower off and nuzzles his face into my neck.  
‘’ Need to fuck you now baby,’’ He whispers, his breath smelling of me. Of musk and sweat and promises. Of fucking mindblowing orgasms.  
We don’t bother with towels, he just leads me infront of him to our bed and gently pushes me down so my arse is up in the air. There is the familiar snap of the bottle of lube opening, and I close my eyes and grind my bum up against his touch as he spreads the lube over my crack, letting his fingers dip in and out of my hole, making sure I am good and ready. I wimper with every touch. I know I am greedy, I love when he fucks me. I am such a bottom, did I not say? I love it. Love it. I love Isak. I might be a little love drunk, and a little turned on, and I am blurting out some pretty embarrassing shit at this point, telling him that I am a slut for his cock and telling him that he needs to fucking fuck me now or I am going to come all over the sheets that he just washed and …  
‘’OH FUUUUUCKCKK’’ I squeal as he pushes into me. He goes agonisingly slow whilst I push up against him with all I can muster until he bottoms out and lets his hands massage my back. Slow gentle movements over my shoulders and down towards my butt cheeks, soft and strong waiting for me, being so fucking patient and sexy and loving and kind. 

‘’Go’’ I whisper, my voice almost choking on all the emotions that are swirling in me. Love. Lust. Fucking turned on. Full of my baby. Full of his fucking gorgeous cock.  
So he fucks me. Fast and hard. And you don’t want to hear the filth I am churning out. I am falling and flying and I don’t fucking give a damn. All that matters is that this is real. That we have this. That he loves me and that he makes me come so hard that I am not even in the room anymore. I am somewhere else. There is jizz all over the bed, there is lube spilling from the bottle next to me. There is a wonderful man who loves me very very much. And my brain is slowly being pumped out through my dick. I’m pretty sure that’s what is happening. 

Isak stills behind me, shouting and swearing as his whole body tenses with release. Then he slowly pulls out and falls onto the bed beside me. His eyes are closed but he reaches out and lets his little finger touch mine. We don’t really need words. We know. 

I wake up an hour later and rummage in the wardrobe for a t shirt. The hangers are gaping empty on Isak’s rail. Then I look down and see it. There is a bag. It’s packed. Isak’s favourite hoodie is at the top, sticking out through the half closed zipper.  
He is leaving. He is leaving me.  
Its two weeks until Christmas. And suddenly I can’t breathe.


	4. The fourth of Advent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All will be resolved apart from the tragic death of a ....

The way I fall to the floor probably startled him, but my wailing sobs definitely wake him up. It’s no use trying to hide it. I am sobbing pathetically between my stuttering breaths. I am not even trying to ward off the panic attack that is inevitable, and will probably end with Isak leaving with that fucking bag that I am clutching to my chest. He will have to pry that bag from my dead cold fingers before I let him leave. 

‘’What the fuck are you doing baby??’’ Isak is startled and half asleep and looking seriously worried as he slides off the bed and crouches down next to me.   
‘’Why are you holding my bag baby?’’ 

I just sob into the cold fabric of the bag on my lap, nuzzling my face into the hoodie on the top, sobbing. I don’t even care anymore. My life is over. Isak is leaving. I let myself howl in distress.   
He is trying to get the bag off me so he can get me under control, but I am fighting him on this one. For once I need to win. He lets go and reaches across to the nightstand to grab a hairband. His hair is so long now he mostly wears it in a manbun, with a few stray curls framing his face. He knows how much I adore it. How handsome it makes him look. So he does it. Bundles his wayward curls up into a messy bun and fastens it with ease. 

‘’Even. Now we are going to talk. Like adults. Agreed?’’ His voice is stern and I can’t help looking at him. I can talk to him. I can be adult. He still can’t leave me. My rules.   
I nod weakly. My breathing is like staccato, strained and far too fast.   
‘’Why did the bag freak you out?’’ He doesn’t look angry. He doesn’t look sad. He almost has a smirk on his face. Evil bastard.   
‘’You are fucking leaving me!!’’ I howl, slamming my fist into his chest. ‘’It’s Christmas and I’m a fucking mess and you are…’’ My breath catches and I have to stop to breathe. ‘’You are fucking leaving me. At Christmas. ‘’ I sob and wail. I have no shame.   
His hand is caressing my face, his fingers working through my hair, grabbing a fist ful and holding tight. 

‘’Now you little shit, I am going to tell you something.’’ His voice is stern and I am doing little hiccups among the sobs.   
‘’Even. You are the fucking love of my life. The man of my dreams. My fucking future husband and father of my future kids. And my dog. And your freaking cat. ‘’ His face is moving closer to mine, his fingers moving among the strands of hair on my head, caressing me and forcing me to keep my eyes on his. 

‘’I know these past weeks have been shit, but I am not leaving. I would never leave you. How can you think that of me? How could I leave? How would I live without you?’’  
‘’ But why’’ I stutter. ‘’Why have you.. all your clothes are packed.’’  
‘’Just some. And some of yours. I packed early hoping you wouldn’t notice. ‘’  
‘’Notice what?’’ I’m slobbering snot all over my face, and I must look like shit.   
‘’That I am taking you away on a surprise trip. As a treat. As your Christmas present.’’

He is smiling like a loon, and he kisses me, all over my disgustingly snotty face. Kisses my eyes, and kisses my tears.   
‘’But we cant afford that, we have no money. You never got paid’’ I sound weak. ‘’You didn’t get paid last month either, we are fucked in the bank Isak. Fucked.’’  
‘’Baby’’ he is caressing my face, and tries to move the bag of my lap again. I’m holding on like an idiot.   
‘’I asked Mr Khan to pay me cash so I could save some of the money to pay for our trip. You would have noticed otherwise and I wanted to surprise you. The rest of it is in an envelope in the kitchen, I can show you. It’s all there. We’re OK. We’re not fucked you twat. You silly stupid boy.’’

I’m still breathing too fast. But not bad. I am calmer. I let Isak take the bag from my lap and he scoops me up in his arms and kisses the top of my head.   
‘’You silly silly boy.’’ He whispers.   
‘’Dickhead’’ I reply. And we laugh. I kiss him. He wipes my face with the corner of the duvet. And I kiss him again. 

The snow on the windowsill is so thick that I can barely see out behind the little santa figurines that Isak has placed there. It’s one week until Christmas. I am snuggled up on the sofa with my gorgeous boy. He loves me. He kisses my cheek and let’s his arms squeeze me tighter. 

On the Tuesday I hand in my essay. It’s not perfect but it will do. 

On the Wednesday Isak sits his final exam. I kiss him good luck when he leaves in the morning. I don’t panic when the washing machine breaks down with my winter jacket inside. I am pretty proud of how well I cope. I do swear a little on the phone to the landlord, but he sends someone to fix it and wishes me a Merry Christmas. I also make an epic gingerbread house. It has two little gingerbread men standing in the doorway, and two ginger kids and a ginger dog and a ginger goat. We don’t have a cat cookie cutter. 

On the Thursday morning Isak and I fly to London. I don’t panic on the plane, even when the turbulence gets bad. Isak holds my hand and counts from 10. He makes it up as he goes along. It is properly bad poetry, but I love him even more for doing it. For being silly. For making me laugh when I fall apart.

We stay with Noora and William and baby Hilde. We eat ridiculous English Christmas food full of alcohol and dried fruit. Drink serious mulled wine and go ice skating by the National History museum. We shop and talk and laugh and we are just happy. We take silly selfies and facetime with Eskild and Thor in Stockholm. I can’t believe they have been married a year. Silly sods. Stupidly in love. We both fall in love with baby Hilde. She pulls Isak’s hair and poo’s on my lap, but she is gorgeous and lovely and I seriously have to stop Isak from packing her in our bag as we head home. 

We land back the day before Christmas Eve. Tired, worn out but deliciously happy. Isak unpacks our bags and lines up all our purchases on the kitchen table. I grab two beers from the fridge and pass him one with a quick kiss on his lips.   
‘’Even’’ He says, with a serious tone that immediately unnerves me.  
‘’What? ‘’  
‘’I might have killed the ginger Goat’’   
Oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for leaving Kudos and Comments. 
> 
> Merry Christmas!!


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